


bury me alive

by Catsarecutebutaliens



Series: trauma blues [5]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Graphic Description, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, I am not sorry, Just to be sure, Mentioned Master (Dhawan), Nightmares, Pain, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Whump, descriptions of burning alive, i have honestly no idea how to tag this so please tell me if there are any other needed warnings, she is suffering, this is pure pain fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23733835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsarecutebutaliens/pseuds/Catsarecutebutaliens
Summary: The Doctor has nightmares. Without anyone left to help, she needs to stay alive on her own.
Series: trauma blues [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712221
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	bury me alive

She was burning.

Violent flames grew upwards from her feet, catching onto her clothes and rising with the fabric. Ever patch of skin it reached screamed with pain until her nerves were destroyed and her weakened legs sank tumbling to the floor. The smell of burning flesh filled the air and suffocated her lungs, keeping her screams trapped in her throat. Any tears escaping her eyes succumbed to the heat and when she tried to open them, smoke and light blinded her.

Gallifrey was burning and so was she.

The fire licked at her hair and she could no longer hold herself upright, falling onto the scathing, familiar ground, digging her nails into the coaled flesh of her arms.

His voice was louder than the flames but she could not make out a single word. It was calm, calmer than she had ever heard it, and she waited for the regeneration energy to flood her body and save her from this, knowing,  _ hoping _ , the fire would burn out at some point, leaving her behind, alone and forgotten.

Nothing came.

He was whispering now, and invisible hands reached out to her while her mind drowned in pain. 

She was going to die.

The flames grew hotter and hotter and no air reached her lungs and she was wringing in pain and gasping for air and her body stopped, stopped breathing, stopped living and he cooed two more words into her mind:

_ Kill me. _

-

The Doctor screamed, low and painful until she could taste blood on her tongue and her eyes flew open. They darted frantically around the room, a room she didn't recognize immediately that was bathed in dark red, almost black light, and felt hot to her touch.

The fire was still licking at her skin, and she violently raked her nails up and down her arms, trying desperately to rid herself of the sensations. Bolts of pain jolted her body and she slammed her head back into the hard material of what she was sagged against, welcoming the controlled pressure. 

Her breath was still too fast, too flat and even as her eyes grew used to the dark, her vision swam with tears and was black in her periphery. Nothing made sense, nothing felt real, and it was like the smell of smoke and burning flesh had followed her from memory into reality.

She scratched the skin of her arms until a different kind of burn befell her body and the air tasted of iron. The rhythmic thump of her head against what felt like the crystalline structures of her console room calmed her enough to start breathing properly again, even though it distantly made her head ache.

There was no telling how much time passed while she sat in the console room, fingers and head slowly stilling until her palms pressed flat against her raw arms and her head fell forwards to rest on her drawn in knees.

She breathed for a while, only interrupted by a sharp sob now and then, and tried to find her way back to the reality of herself. 

"I'm sorry," the Doctor whispered with a broken voice into an empty room once everything stopped feeling dull and blurred with smoke. She did not know why those words felt like a weight on her chest or why she flinched when no answer echoed back to her. 

There was blood on her hands when she pressed them against the floor to slowly rise from her hunched position, although it had been there before, nights ago when she had last made the mistake of falling asleep. None of this was new, but it never became easier, never different. 

When she hovered over the console, a small, hollow chirp sounded out from the depths of it, and her fingers brushed over it as gently as she could manage. The Doctor had no more plans, no more ideas, no future to reach, she was drifting through the void alone, and any direction she took was without purpose. 

The wounds in her mind were deep and the memories alive and burning in the depths of it. Nothing would ever be able to smother them completely, no pain in the universe strong enough to compare to them. 

It wouldn't stop her from trying.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE tell me how you feel about this because I have not written something similar before. I needed to get it out, tho, so here it is. I hope you enjoyed (?) it nonetheless, comments and kudos make my day.


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